


A Passing Glimpse

by NoisyNoiverns



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Mention of Avitus/Macen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-09 01:38:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13470981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoisyNoiverns/pseuds/NoisyNoiverns
Summary: Nihlus gets home from a mission. Saren is too busy to hang out, but Nihlus is okay with that.





	A Passing Glimpse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Holiday Harbinger gift for s1ranksinner/turianeffect on Tumblr!

Nihlus had barely made it two steps into the apartment before a whirling mass of black cloth and white plates, frantically rifling through the small disaster area that was the living room, said to him, "Hello. Your mother called. Where's my cloak?"

He jerked back, squinting and shaking his head. He was used to erratic behavior from Saren, but this was ridiculous. "Hold on. Pause, time-out." He held up his hands in a cross like a clawball player signalling to the referee. Saren, rather comically, froze mid-stride, and Nihlus continued. "What was that about my mother?"

Saren put his feet together to stand normally, catching his balance for a second. Then his eyes rolled back far enough that Nihlus could see the whites of his sclerae, surprisingly less bloodshot than usual, like he was hoping the correct answer would be printed on the backs of the sockets. "She called three days ago. I said you were away." He looked back at Nihlus and flapped his mandibles expectantly, though Nihlus wasn't sure wh-- oh, right, cloak.

Nihlus turned to absently rifle through the closet, assuming Saren had just forgotten about its existence. Again. "Did she say what she wants?"

"No. Call her back and ask yourself." Sure enough, the familiar worn black fabric was nestled in its usual place between the Hierarchy-officer-teal cloak Saren had stolen from his late brother's mate and Nihlus's own green winter one. The moment Nihlus's hand grasped it and pulled it free of its hanger, Saren seized it, moving around him to be closer to the door as he went. "I have to go."

 _"What?_ I just got back," Nihlus protested, nevertheless tossing the bottom half of the cloak over Saren's head. "Does the councilor want to talk to you?"

"No," came the muffled response. Saren scrabbled to remove the offending fabric from his face, then took a moment to neatly arrange the cloak around his shoulders and fasten it to the left of his keel before adding, "I have to go destroy Rix at clawball. Three-on-three."

Nihlus paused, then raised a brow plate. "Really? You're going to leave me here to call my mother without any backup?"

Saren thought about this for a moment, then nodded sharply. _"Macen Barro_  is on my team, Nihlus," he said, voice and subvocals dripping with the saccharine, syrupy sweetness he only used when affectionately bullying his inner circle of friends. "I can't let this opportunity pass by."

"What, the opportunity to embarrass your best friend in front of the man he has an obnoxiously obvious crush on?" Nihlus lifted one mandible and threaded a teasing lilt into his subvocals. "Or the opportunity to bond with a man you know very well may become a permanent part of your life if said best friend ever works up the courage to ask him to go steady properly?"

Saren gave him a distinctly unrepentant look, which, if he knew Saren, meant it was the second, but he would insist it was the first under any further interrogation. "The opportunity to beat Avitus Rix at clawball, Nihlus," he said instead, subvocals humming with amusement and confidence. "It's myself, Barro, and Ezekian on one team, and Rix, Calposcus, and Valerian on the other. We were going to invite you, but Ierian didn't know when you would be back."

Nihlus snorted gently. "Thank you for thinking of me, I suppose. How long will you be out?"

Saren checked the chrono on his omni-tool. "A couple of hours. We agreed not to play past a reasonable dinnertime." He paused, then added, "We were going to go out to eat, as a group. We'll be at the gymnasium on Thirty-third and Broznius, you can meet us there when you're done with your mother and come along, if you'd like."

"Why do you assume I'm going to call her?" Nihlus asked wryly, nevertheless pulling up his own omni-tool to jot down a note about where to go.

Saren shrugged. "Because I know you."

Nihlus wasn't sure what to say to that. Luckily, he didn't have to think about it, because Saren checked his chrono again, then glanced at the door. "I should get going. I'm already going to be late."

He didn't move, though, instead looking at Nihlus expectantly. Smiling to himself, Nihlus lowered his head, allowing Saren to stretch up on his claw-tips and crane his neck out to rub his zygomatic ridges along Nihlus's own. "Don't crush Avitus _too_  badly," Nihlus told him, subvocals rumbling warm, gentle affection. "If I have to listen to one more drunk, insecure ramble about what a loser he thinks Barro thinks he is, I'll string you up and dangle you off the balcony by your ankles."

Saren withdrew and gave him a rare smile, mandibles awkwardly akimbo but still definitely angled up. "If you insist."

Nihlus smiled back and jerked his head toward the door. "Have fun. I'll let you know when I'm on the way."

Saren clicked his mandibles in acquiescence, then turned, picked up a small athletics bag off the couch, and palmed the door control. He tossed one last, "Go call your mother," over his shoulder as he trotted out, and then he was gone in a flash of biotic blue and crackle of static.

Nihlus watched the door slide shut behind him, then shook his head and turned to walk further into the apartment, pulling up his omni-tool. Some days, he couldn't _pay_  Saren to talk to other people, and others he ran off to play sports in a large group like it was the only thing worthwhile in life. Nihlus supposed that maybe, if he lived to old age, he might eventually understand the enigma that was Saren Arterius. Possibly. Theoretically speaking.

Granted, he certainly understood more than the average populace, he mused to himself as he rifled through his contacts. At least he knew enough to realize that Saren being busy and eager to get gone when Nihlus came home meant he'd be getting his welcome with interest later.


End file.
